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Little League
by Bruce Jewett

Where are tiny drug stores
with Green Lantern or Donald Duck
for a dime? Candy bars a nickel
jawbreakers two a penny?

What of boys on bicycles
at dusk, their arms cocked
to snap smeared newsprint
into hedges and milk bottles?

They pedal through perfumes
of pine smoke and fire cherry
as the bang of a wooden bat
tells of one, old and weary
who’s safe at home at last.

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